


pull me closer (if you think you can hang)

by distractionpie



Series: (I didn't) just come here to dance [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, F/F, Genderbending, Genderswap, Hair-pulling, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distractionpie/pseuds/distractionpie
Summary: It’s Friday night, or more likely early Saturday morning, and Webster will not shut up.





	pull me closer (if you think you can hang)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi new fandom! Have some gratuitous porn. Unedited. (Mouse-over for alt text translations.)
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Bad Girls by M.I.A

“Because fuck you, that’s why!”

“Oh, well how can I hope to defend against rhetoric like that.”

It’s Friday night, or more likely early Saturday morning, and if they carry on like this they’re going to wake the whole building but Joe doesn’t give a shit. She cusses Webster out as she jams her key into the shitty lock that sticks two tries out of three and means they’re probably all gonna burn to death if there’s ever a fire but that’s not even important right now because Webster will not shut up.

"If you'd actually read it instead of just watching the movie while texting you'd understand that-"

"It was boring. There wasn't even an actual story." And finally the lock turns and Joe swings the door open and enters, stepping into the flickering glow of the foyer lights. Webster follows her.

"There doesn't have to be people flying around blowing things up for something to be interesting," Webster protests. "It's an examination of the human condition."

"The condition of dying of boredom maybe," Joe suggests as the door slams shut behind them. She can hear Webster huff as she walks across the hall and starts up the stairs. "What? C'mon you can't really think that them sitting in a room sulking at each other is entertaining. It's like Big Brother except without all of the hilarious bitching."

Webster's room is on the ground floor but she follows Joe up anyway, as if making her point to Joe is more important than sleep. "How can you compare classic art to that drivel? They aren't sulking, they're contemplating-"

Joe turns at the top of the stairs. “Don’t you ever quit runnin’ that mouth of yours?” She's never understood Webster's apparently compulsive need to correct people, Joe in particular. Webster's memory for eclectic trivia can be entertaining, the way she gets wrapped up in pretentious theory just winds Joe up though. The steps even out their height difference, actually tips it a little in Joe's favour so that Webster is pouting angrily up at her, but Joe presses on. "All I'm saying is my opinion, which is that the movie was shit and I don't see how you can like the book when it's a thick as your goddamn arm and so far as I can tell, nothing happens. The characters aren't even likeable, not like-"

She's cut off by Web's lips pressing up against hers, Web's fingers twisting into her t-shirt and Joe would say that she grabs Web's blazer on instinct but she's got no such justification for hauling Web closer, for parting her lips and seizing control of the kiss. At least it keeps Webster quiet. She hauls Web up the last step and they're staggering down the hall, until Joe can spin them both around and shove Webster up against the door to Joe's dorm, releasing Web's blazer in favour of slipping the buttons of her blouse free.

Webster twists her mouth away from Joe. "We're in a hallway!" she snaps and Joe rolls her eyes.

"Oh, but the stairs were fine?" she grumbles, but unlocks her room. Webster overbalances and staggers backwards as the door swings open, and Joe steps into her space, tugs at Webster's blouse again while she's still off balance, the last of the ridiculous tiny buttons slipping from their holes, minus the one that pops off, flying across the room. Whatever. She kisses Webster again, pushing Webster's blouse off her shoulders and down Webster's arms until Web can shake it to the floor.

Then Webster's hands are at Joe's belt, yanking it open and casting it aside, her slim fingers opening Joe's fly. Joe pulls away from Webster to hook her thumbs into the waistband of her pants and jerk them down over her thighs, uncovering herself. Webster gasps, a shocked breathy little noise, all scandalised of course because Davina Webster is a nice girl who would never go commando just to save a few bucks on laundry. Joe is tempted to snark about it but she’s cut off by Webster toppling her back so Joe falls widthways across the narrow dorm bed, the impact of the mattress knocking the air right out of her lungs. There's scarcely room for Joe to lay this way, her hips are barely on the mattress and her head is propped against the wall, so she starts to sit up, starts to snarl, but Webster is dropping to her knees, getting her ridiculous silk stockings all dirtied up on the same manky carpet she complains about every time she's in here just so she can pull Joe's jeans the rest of the way down until they tangle at mid-calf around her boots. Joe kicks a little, even though she knows her jeans are too well tucked in and her boots too tightly laced for her to get out of them without interrupting things before reaching over to the bedside counter, grabbing impatiently for some goddamn scissors because fuck it, she didn't really need shoelaces anyway.

Webster is even more impatient though, grabbing at Joe's right thigh and hoisting it just enough to duck under, to get her head between Joe's trapped legs, Joe's thighs resting on her shoulders and holy motherfucking shit Joe can feel the warmth of Web's breath between her legs, the brush of Webster's ridiculous fucking ringlets sliding against her skin, soft but not as soft as Webster's lips as they press against Joe's cunt, tentative for a moment before they part and Webster licks into Joe, firm and confident, the pressure just right and Joe shivers and lets her head fall back as Webster goes to fucking town.

Shit, it's good. Webster is unbelievably fucking good at this, and it does things to Joe knowing that it's her whose made Miss Davina goody-two-shoes Webster has finally pull her head out of her textbooks and use that mouth for something better than being a know-it-all.

Joe runs her fingers though Web's hair, feeling the soft strands slip between her digits before Webster flicks her tongue just right and Joe can't keep her grip from tightening, twisting Web's dark locks between her fingers. Web lets out a high whine, doing that thing with her tongue again which is just so damn good that Joe can’t resist the urge to pull a little harder, to use the little leverage she has to rock her hips and grind against Webster’s mouth as Webster shudders and moans, slackening under Joe’s hands.

"You like that, Web?" Joe pants, using her grip on Web’s hair to guide the other girl’s attention back to where Joe wants her, and Webster goes oh so easy. “Yeah, just there, that’s… oh fuck, your mouth!” Joe curses long and loud as Web’s tongue strokes her clit. “That’s it, fuck, you’re so good Web.”

She gives herself over to sensation, letting her world reduce down to Web’s mouth and the hot press of her lips, her agile tongue, and the way Webster seems to know exactly what Joe needs.

When orgasm spikes through every muscle of Joe’s body, her hands jerk at Web’s hair and her thighs clench tight, pinning Web’s head in place. And Web just keeps going, working Joe through it with slow hard licks that have Joe bucking on her tongue and keening, too overwhelmed for words. Eventually Joe can't keep her muscles going slack and she allows herself to sink into the mattress for several long moments before gathering the strength to prop herself up with one arm so that she can look down at Webster.

“Fuck. You could do this for me all night, couldn’t you?” Joe says.

Webster's usually immaculate curls are mussed and wild, her face red and her eyes bright, but goddamn if it isn't her mouth that's still wrecking Joe, those stupid pouty lips that are rosy pink, and slick and shining as she grins, looking so self-satisfied, and says, “Do you want to find out?” leans back in like she’s gonna pick up where she left off.

“No,” Joe snaps, and the smile drops from Web's face, her brow furrowing as she recoils a little, and Joe shakes her head. “My turn. Get up here,” she demands, tugging at Web’s hair. Honestly, who does Webster think she is? Webster might have gotten Joe off, but after all the noise Web was making just from eating her out, Joe will be damned if she doesn’t get to make Webster scream in return.

It takes a moment, as Web starts to stand only to realise she’s trapped in the loop of Joe’s legs, ankles still tangled up in boots and jeans. She ducks instead, as then rolls her shoulders as she stands. Joe takes the opportunity to shuffle backwards on the bed, spinning so that she's laying the right way along it and can lean back against the cushions and the headboard.

"Shoes on the sheets?" Webster mutters incredulously, but she follows Joe onto the bed, swinging a leg over so that she straddles Joe's lap.

Joe can feel the silk of Web's stockinged calves as they press up against the outsides of her own bare thighs as she guides Web forwards, kissing the taste of herself from those lips as she pushes Webster's skirt up over her hips - it starts to slip back down and so Joe jams the hem into the waistband to keep it out of the way. She half expects Webster to complain about the creases, but apparently Joe's hands dropping down to rest against the band of lace where Webster's stockings give way to bare skin is sufficient distraction. Under other circumstances Joe might have been tempted to linger there, to tease Webster, but she can see Webster’s panties, blue and lacy just like her bra, and she can see where they're just a little darker, damp and clinging to Web's skin and suddenly all she wants is to feel how wet Web is for her. She slides her hand across, hooking a finger around the flimsy fabric of Webster's panties, which are soaking as Joe draws them aside, Webster arching towards the touch, like she’s on the brink already just from getting her mouth on Joe.

"Jesus," Joe hisses as she tugs Webster closer, slipping two fingers into her unresisting heat. "You're practically dripping for me." She rubs her thumb against the slick skin, stroking upwards to find Web's clit and there's no holding back now; Joe fucks her fingers into Web hard and fast, Web's hips rolling to meet every thrust.

The new angle puts Web's breasts right in line with Joe's face and, because some forces in the universe are kind, Web's fancy bra fastens at the front. It's the work of seconds for Joe to get the thing unhooked and get her free hand wrapped around the soft flesh revealed, thumb rubbing back and forth over a perky pink nipple. Joe has never envied girls with big tits - they seem like a lot of hassle to live with - but she sure as hell likes getting her hands on a pair, and nature has been generous to Web. She leans in, running her tongue over Webster's nipple and after all of Web's noise earlier is disappointed to receive only a muffled whimper.

She looks up to see that Webster is biting down on her lower lip, stifling her gasps, and that shit doesn’t fly with Joe, not one bit. She stretches upwards, abandoning her exploration of Web’s tits in favour of grabbing at her hair again, pulling Web’s mouth back within reach. She kisses Web roughly, not shying away from teeth, leaves Web gasping for air and then makes sure to circle her thumb around Web's clit as she says, “C’mon, I wanna hear ya’."

This time Webster doesn't hold back a moan as she squirms against Joe's hand.

Joe grins as she presses her face into Web's cleavage, pressing kisses against the soft flesh, then sucking, overcome by the idea of leaving marks on Web's milky skin. The thought tempts her into biting, not hard, just a quick nip of teeth but Web shrieks, tightening around Joe's fingers, so Joe does it again. And again.

Webster is writhing, gasping Joe’s name like it’s the only word that she knows, and Joe doesn't let up until Web moans her name loud enough that the whole floor would probably hear it if they were up.

Joe coaxes her through the aftershocks, stroking Web with feather light touches until Web pulls away, rolling off of Joe’s lap and flopping to the mattress, squeezing her way in between Joe and the wall.

She looks a mess, her hair all tangled and her face flushed, lower lip all swollen from being bitten and Joe's marks blossoming across her chest.

Just the sight of her steals Joe's breath away.

"Ich behalte dich." The words just slip out, escaping from her mouth before she remembers that Web knows German, and knows it well, reads untranslated Kafka and watches weird art films without the subtitles. That Joe’s childhood habit of whispering secrets in her mother tongue so that nobody could understand won’t work on Web. She's spoken softly but in the quiet of the night there's no background noise that might have disguised the words. It's too much, Joe isn't even sure where the thought came from, although she knows deep in her bones that she means the words.

There's a long moment of silence and Joe is tempted to get up, to run, to leave her room and not come back until Webster is gone and Joe has somehow purged herself of the image of Webster, sated and smiling on Joe's sheets.

“Lieb?” Webster’s breath gusts over Joe’s hip, and Joe knows that Webster is just shortening her name, nothing else, because anything else would be nonsensical, isn’t where they’re at at all, but her heart still flips unexpectedly, ridiculously.

“Yeah Web?”

“Lay with me?” Webster’s eyes are shut and her words are a sleepy murmur. Maybe Webster hadn't noticed Joe's slip after all, maybe the words didn't register in her distracted mind, or maybe she heard Joe just fine, wants to stay and let Joe have what she's only just realising she wants. Joe doesn't know, but it’s late and Webster is warm and soft and curled up beside her, so maybe that concern can wait until morning. Joe slides down the bed and into Web’s arms, registering for the first time the heaviness of her own eyelids only moments before she cannot keep them open any longer.

For now, things can be simple.


End file.
